


Watermelon Pink

by Moreena



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Cell Phones, Lingerie, M/M, Makeup, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex, Pictures, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Selfies, Shameless Smut, Slutty Quatre, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 13:57:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11533665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: Quatre has a long weekend off, and Trowa drew the short straw for working night shift with Une.  Since he's alone, Quatre decides a little pampering is required, and Trowa only eggs him on through text.  Quatre ups the game by the nth level.





	Watermelon Pink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Noelleian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelleian/gifts).



> Happy birthday girl!!!!! I write shameless, filthy, self-indulgent things for people on their birthdays. Here it is Noelleian! Only a day late!!! Loosely inspired by Fifth Harmony's 'Work From Home' song.

Wakefulness came to him slowly, like waves lapping against a lakeside dock. It was glorious to rouse himself slowly, with no alarms, no pressing engagements to tend to. Nothing to spoil the moment he was living in. He pushed the blankets back from over his head, belatedly wondering when he’d cocooned himself inside of all of them. It had to have been sometime in the late afternoon, after Trowa had left for work. 

 

His lover had pulled the short straw for the weekend and wound up working the night shift in the office, with Une, much to his chagrin. He’d grumbled and moaned about it, but no amount of complaining could change his shift, because none of the others would switch with him. Quatre had promised Trowa that he wasn’t going to miss out on much. He’d been traveling for business, and had finally come home in the early morning hours of Friday. He’d crawled into their bed and collapsed. Exhausted but unable to fall asleep, he’d prodded Trowa awake. Bleary with sleep, Trowa had woken up enough to ravish him, leaving them both sticky and sweaty, before they’d both passed out into blissful oblivion. Trowa had woken with his alarm, Quatre dead to the world and none-the-wiser to the noise. When he’d been ready to go, Trowa had brushed his lips across Quatre’s forehead in a chaste kiss, and left. 

 

Languidly stretching, he felt like a cat. He felt something shift in his back, and there was an audible crack as his spine adjusted. The sound was as loud as a gunshot in the utter stillness of the apartment. He let out a huff of pleasure, bringing his arms back down. His first need taken care of, his hands pushed the blankets away, fingernails scratching at his stomach.

 

“Ew…”

 

His face crinkled as he encountered skin flaky with dried come. They’d both been so tired, neither of them had bothered to clean up. While he felt relaxed, his muscles were stiff and sore from days of endless meetings, and a long flight home, and of course a quick round of sex. Swinging his feet off the side of the bed, he debated on taking a shower or a bath. His aching muscles won out, and he headed for the bathroom naked, turning on the taps to extra hot and starting to fill the bathtub. Opening one of the drawers, he decided to indulge. He was home alone, and felt like pampering himself. He pulled out a container of bath salts, liberally adding some to the running water. Bubbles began to form, and the water turned a pleasing shade of blue.

 

While the tub filled, Quatre hummed to himself, snagging his phone from the nightstand and padding into the kitchen, still as naked as the day he was born. He’d grown a bit taller in the years after the war, but he was still slim, and his head fit comfortably under Trowa’s chin, even when he was on flat feet. Opening a cabinet, he pulled down a wine glass, his phone lighting up with a message from Trowa. Smiling, he unlocked his phone and typed out a reply that he’d just woken up, then locked it and rooted around in the fridge, coming up with a bottle of red wine. Pulling the stopper out, he poured himself a generous glass before he put it back, grabbing the glass and his phone, heading back for the bathroom. 

 

Setting his things on the wide lip of the bathtub, he turned off the taps and grabbed a towel and set it nearby, still humming to himself. Slowly, he eased himself into the hot water, hissing out a breath from between his teeth. He’d made it too hot on purpose, because he wanted to languish in it until his skin started to wrinkle and his body began to overheat from it. As he sat, the water lapped at his skin and he settled himself against the back of the tub, surrounded by bubbles, wine, and his phone. A perfect ending to a busy week, though having his lover there would make it even better.

 

Speaking of Trowa, his phone buzzed with a reminder that he had an unread text. He took a sip of wine, savoring the taste before he picked his phone up with his free hand. Trowa was bored. He’d sent a picture of his desk, laden with paperwork, then asked what Quatre was doing. Shifting things, Quatre’s reply was a photo of his wine glass, with a bubble bath background, and the hint of a pale leg poking out from the water. The reply was almost instant. A face with heart eyes. Quatre chuckled and shook his head, indulging in another sip of wine. Trowa sent another message. A simple ‘I miss you.’ It was that message, probably coupled with his near perfect state of contentment and being home alone that kindled the idea. His lips curled upwards into a devious smirk, and he drank more wine as he formulated a plan in his head, just like arranging chess pieces across a board to make an opponent dance to your specific tune.

 

After he’d soaked until his fingers and toes had turned into small prunes, he pulled the stopper on the tub and watched the water slowly ebb away. He toweled himself off and dropped it in the hamper when he was finished. He stayed in the bathroom, rooting around under Trowa’s sink and coming up with a large black bag. He set it on the counter between the jack and jill sinks and unzipped it gently. Inside was Trowa – no their make-up collection. Despite both being male, they knew the slight enhancements from cosmetic products could work in their favor. Trowa sometimes used things when he went undercover. Quatre had a go-to coverup for hickies and dark eye circles. But, they both enjoyed sometimes dolling Quatre up. Painting his face up to make him look more feminine, to either go out to places where anonymity was highly provided with the right amount of money, or sometimes if they wanted a night in, and Quatre just felt like being pretty for his lover, over being handsome or beautiful. Tonight, was going to be one of those nights. Quatre wanted to be pretty for Trowa, when he came home. And, he wanted to tease. To have Trowa desperate for his shift to end, crawling the walls with desire. Driving just the side of too fast to get home to his blonde bedwarmer.

 

Oh, it was going to be glorious. Carefully, Quatre dug into the depths of the bag, pulling out a few essential things. He worked slowly, methodically, with his tongue stuck out between his lips and teeth as he worked. He passed brushes over his face with the precision of a surgeon, or a man who had built and worked on various mobile suits with intricate details. When he was finished, his face looked stunning. He’d kept it simple, going for something a little more natural, with a bit of pale pink on his cheeks, giving him the image of being a blushing innocent. His eyes were done with a tiny bit of dark eyeliner in the outer corners of his eyes, with a bit of subtle peachy-pink on his lids. He swiped a wand of dark pink lip gloss across his lower lip, then up across the top, letting it air dry for a moment before he smacked his lips together with a wet pop. Look complete, he swiped his cell phone again and held it up, snapping a quick series of selfies from different angles. Some held a pouty look, others of wanton seduction. Thumbing through them all, he finally picked on he liked and quickly sent it before he lost his nerve.

 

Trowa’s replies were quick. A line of fans across the text screen. Then words. ‘You look stunning Quat. Is there a special occasion?’ ‘Not at all’. It honestly wasn’t a special occasion. Quatre was pretty sure that Trowa’s mind was running rampant with thoughts. A birthday, an anniversary of some kind. What had he overlooked that his ever-perceptive blonde lover hadn’t? Quatre knew it would gnaw on him until he either figured it out or came home and managed to wring it out of Quatre. He’d started the seduction now, and it was time to ramp it up. Trowa would be eating out of the palm of his hand before sunrise.

 

Deep in the recesses of their shared closet, Quatre had a special small dresser. It was a two-drawer thing, but it was stuffed full of lingerie. All different styles and colors. Different fabrics, different patterns. Quatre had a collection of everything from simple panties to colored chemises, to stockings with matching garter belts. He hadn’t broken into corsets yet, but he would probably wind up there one day in the future. While he had quite the collection, it wasn’t something he indulged in often. He enjoyed the feeling of the different fabrics as they slid up his legs against his skin. He relished how wearing them made him feel. Extra wanton, like he could conquer the entire world just by being scantily clad. Especially when the whole world was just Trowa’s body and libido. And, of course, it only added to that feeling of being pretty, in a way that suits and ties couldn’t match.

 

As he perused the drawer, he heard his phone chime from the bedroom. It was probably Trowa, and he could wait. Picking out what to wear was just as important as the makeup that he’d carefully applied. In the end, he decided on a new watermelon pink set, that Trowa hadn’t seen yet. He kept each set in its own organza bag so he didn’t’ have to rifle through everything to find a missing piece. It satisfied that little inner organization demon part of him that he was convinced that everyone had. He took the bag into the bedroom and set it on the bed, his body breaking out in goosebumps with the anticipation. 

 

Taking a deep breath, he gently dumped the contents of the bag onto the sheets and spread them out so he could decide where he wanted to go first. Of course, as he was reaching for the thigh highs, the idea came to him. He stopped and went to the nightstand and rooted around inside it, coming up with a bottle of lube and one of his favorite butt plugs. It was buttery soft silicone, purple in color. Quatre loved the feeling of it in his hands. And inside of him? Oh, it was heavenly, with the perfect amount of tapering to it, so it nestled perfectly against his prostate. If he wore it and did things, it nudged and brushed perfectly at it, driving him insane with desire. If Trowa was feeling particularly evil, he’d slip a cock ring onto Quatre, forcing him to wear both and struggle with wanting the torment to end, and never wanting it to stop because he’d turn into a mass of nerves and sensations. He shuddered just recalling the last time he’d worn it. It had been too long.

 

Crawling onto the bed with the lube and the plug, he settled himself, letting out a little yelp when something cold brushed his leg. He fumbled for it, coming up with his phone. He chuckled to himself and set it on the pillow after he’d unlocked it and pulled up the camera. He dripped some lube onto his fingers, rubbing it together, warming it up as he spread his legs, planting his feet flat on the bed so he was spread open. He trailed his fingers down between his legs, rubbing against his hole. He teased it with tentative touches, feeling it twitch and flutter at his touch. When he’d teased enough and started to feel desperate, he carefully worked a finger inside, throwing his head back with a guttural moan. Pushing and pulling, he worked that finger in and out, rocking it back and forth inside himself to stretch his body open slightly. His cock was hard, the tip beading with precoma as he worked, brushing against his stomach. When he felt ready, he slipped in a second finger, panting as he felt his body give way to the intrusion. Turning his head, he bit at the pillow under him, cheeks heating as arousal spread through him like wildfire. His phone slid down and bumped into his nose. Easing back, he released the pillow, taking up his phone with his free hand. It took a moment to adjust and figure out a way to hold the phone and get the shot, but he managed.

 

Instead of going for a third finger, Quatre decided that he wanted to feel that gentle burn of penetration as he was filled. Withdrawing his fingers, he used his clean hand to drip lube onto the plug, using his lubed hand to spread it over until the entire surface was slick. Then he slid it down between his legs, pressing the tip against his hole. He breathed in deeply, then let it out slowly, keeping his body as relaxed as possible. It breached him slowly, the tip entering easily. As the plug began to flare out, he had to gasp as he was spread wide. He was relentless with himself, never stopping. He kept up with the slow push, panting heavily. Dimly, he hoped he wasn’t ruining his makeup with all of the tossing and turning he was doing on the pillow. Whimpering as the widest part of the plug started, he paused for a moment to catch his breath. Tipping his head back, he looked up at the ceiling, knowing this would all be worth it when Trowa saw the pictures, and when he finally got home to enjoy it in person. After he’d paused, he took up the plug and pressed, feeling it slide in the rest of the way almost on its own, showing how greedy his hole was for it. It bottomed out and he moaned again, one hand gripping the sheets as he felt so full in the best possible way. Everything felt like it was on fire. A slow burn that engulfed him from head to toe, making itself known by the clench of his ass around the plug, and the way his cock was turgid against his stomach, freely drooling precome onto his skin.

 

Wiping his lubed hand off on the sheets, he grabbed his phone again and sent the picture of his fingers disappearing inside his body. When it was sent, he took one of the end of the toy peeking out from between his legs for later use. Trowa would know which one it was by the color alone. Quatre carefully collected himself, focusing on his body, on things he could feel. The sheets against his back and feet, the weight of the plug inside his body. The bit of breeze cooling his skin from the central air. When he felt like he could move without orgasming on the spot, he forced himself to sit up, fingers white knuckled in the sheets as the plug pressed deep inside, rubbing over and on his prostate in an unending touch. Standing on shaky legs, he breathed out deeply, his phone chiming to distract him.

 

Trowa was in shock. It had taken him far longer to respond to that message than any of the others Quatre had sent him that night. His lover said as much. ‘I can’t… Quat… You can’t do this to me at work.’ Now Quatre wanted to torment him. Now he would be evil, would torture Trowa until the moment he got off of work in two hours. ‘Don’t tell me that. You know I’ll only be worse.’ Quatre walked around the bed back to the pile of lingerie while he awaited Trowa’s reply. ‘Maybe I want to see your worst.’ Oh, it was on now. 

Settling himself down gingerly, Quatre took up one of the thigh highs, fingers working to carefully roll it up until it was just the toe and a bunch of fabric in his hand. He slipped his foot in, then slowly and carefully rolled it up his leg until it was half way up his thigh. Reaching behind, Quatre worked the seam in the back until it was straight and in the middle of his leg. He repeated the process with the other leg, the pink not too bright against his pale skin. He snapped a quick photo of his legs encased in nylon, with the lacy tops against his thighs. He sent that one off, noting there was still time before Trowa got off of work. Next, he debated on the garter belt. If he did put it on, did he go for looks or function?

 

If he wanted function, then the garters went on, then the underwear. But if he wanted looks, which might impede function later, then the underwear went on, then the garters over those. So far, they were staying up fairly well on their own, so he decided to skip it for tonight. Now was his favorite part. He put the garter belt back into the bag and picked up the panties. They were lace to match the thigh highs. A thong, with a nice high cut over the hip. The middle where the thong sat on his hips was a satin, just to add extra strength to the fabric, and to prevent ripping. It was delicate work to tuck his hardened cock into them, but he somehow managed, hissing at his own touch on his skin, wanting nothing more than to take himself in hand and stroke himself while riding the plug inside his body until he came in thick spurts, Trowa’s name falling from his lips. He resisted the urge, knowing his release would be all the sweeter if he held off, waited for Trowa to come home.

 

Sprawling back onto the bed, he couldn’t hold back the moan when he bounced and the plug moved inside him, igniting that hot spark of lust inside him again. He felt the front of his panties grow slightly damp with pre-come. He angled himself to take a long shot down his body, making sure to get the panties and the stockings together. He played with it, adding a bit of a filter to it, just because before he sent it off. He opened his music player and picked a station, turning up the volume a bit so it filled the room enough to drown out the silence. Trowa responded with wide eyes, and told him that he was being scolded by Une for being on his phone so much. Quatre laughed to himself, watching the minutes tick by. 

 

At just a half hour before Trowa’s shift ended, Quatre clicked on the picture of the plug nestled inside his body. He sent that one. He’d built Trowa up for hours at this point. He was probably crawling the walls, dying to just leave and drive home, so he could be with his lover. He rolled onto his side, burying his face in Trowa’s pillow, breathing in the scent of his missing lover. This time, his phone rang, and he picked it up, bringing it to his ear with that devilish grin on his face.

 

“Hey babe,” Quatre purred into the phone.

 

“You are an evil man Quatre Winner. I have extra paperwork because of the little stunt you’ve pulled tonight with all those pictures,” Trowa said in way of greeting.

 

“Should’ve called in. Or bargained for a way out of it,” Quatre stated in reply, rolling his hips into the mattress, letting a moan reverberate from his throat, knowing it would only spur Trowa on.

 

“Evil. Do you know how hard it is to hide a hardon in this uniform? You’re horrible.”

 

“So hurry home and punish me Trowa,” Quatre purred, pouring arousal into his voice.

 

Trowa groaned across the phone, muttering a curse under his breath. “Why did I take the bike in today?”

 

Quatre’s only reply was a deliciously evil cackle before he hung up the phone, the music automatically resuming. He set it on the nightstand and plugged it in, knowing he’d forget about it in just a little while. 

 

He didn’t have to wait long. He vaguely wondered how many speed limits Trowa had broken, and how many red lights he’d run to be home in just fifteen minutes. He heard the front door open then bang shut with a start. He heard a series of thumps, which he assumed to be Trowa’s boots and helmet hitting the floor in the entryway. It was mere moments later that Trowa’s body stood, framed by the doorway, eyes trying to memorize every detail of Quatre as he rutted himself against the bed. He was pale limbs against black sheets, with bright pink encasing his hips and legs, face dolled up with artful make-up, and his cock hard inside those innocent-looking panties. He rolled onto his back, fluttering his eyes at Trowa, silently daring him to make the first move.

 

Trowa took the bait, shrugging out of his jacket and letting it hit the floor. He pushed Quatre’s legs open and fell onto him, nuzzling at Quatre’s thigh with his cheek. The scratch of his five o-clock shadow rasped against the nylon. It scratched past the nylon against Quatre’s skin, making his legs prickle with goosebumps. Trowa groaned aloud against Quatre’s skin, lifting his head up enough to get past the lace tops of the thigh highs to bite at Quatre’s skin. He pressed his teeth together hard, pushing until Quatre cried out, fingers grabbing at his hair in an attempt to pull Trowa off. Trowa soothed the hurt with the flat of his tongue before he moved up to mouth over Quatre’s covered cock. He licked at the lace, tasting the hint of salt on Quatre’s skin, the sharp tang of precome when he found the tip of his cock.

 

Quatre rocked his hips, canting them up to try and get friction, his thigh still stinging from the bite. His rolling drove the plug deeper into him, and Trowa kept mouthing at his cock, the lace an even darker pink. It became too much. The thrusting motion of the plug inside of him, rubbing deliciously against every inch of his insides; the way Trowa’s mouth was hot and wet against his cock; the burning hot touch of Trowa’s fingers as they dug into Quatre’s thighs to hold him open. He came with a wordless scream, his head thrown back, his fists beating against the bed as his orgasm washed over him like a tidal wave. The lace did a poor job of containing his come, but Trowa was there, lapping at it, sucking on the head of his cock through the material, even as Quatre whined and tried to twist away as he was overly stimulated, the touch of Trowa’s mouth as he cleaned him too much.

 

When Trowa finally pulled away, he had his own devilish grin across his face. Quatre might have started the game, but at the current moment, they were tied. The blonde laid there, chest heaving as he tried to regain control of his body and slow his breathing. Trowa propped his chin on the jut of Quatre’s hipbone to watch his lover, a lazy and half-satisfied smirk on his face.

 

“Clearly, you were pent up. You can’t leave for weeks at a time ever again. Last night, tonight. You’re just a needy little slut, aren’t you?” Trowa asked.

 

Quatre’s cheeks flushed for a moment, and he playfully swatted at Trowa’s head, smacking against the fall of brunette hair over his face.

 

“Hush, you know you love me like this,” Quatre shot back.

 

“You’re right. You look very pretty tonight. This is a new set,” Trowa commented, running a finger along the edge of lace on one of the blonde’s thighs, making Quatre suck in a harsh breath.

 

“Wanted to surprise you.”

 

“You did a good job. But, you teased me. While I was at work. Which means I have double the paperwork on Monday,” Trowa intoned, his voice turning stern, like he was getting back into the game.

 

“I’m sorry. I was lonely. I didn’t want you to miss me while you were gone,” Quatre replied, the words rolling off his tongue too easily.

 

Trowa laughed, turning his face to Quatre’s stomach to muffle the sound. If he focused hard enough, he could feel Quatre’s pout. As his laughter subsided, he schooled his face into one of something more befitting an annoyed lover. He pulled himself back, rising up onto his knees between Quatre’s legs, looking down at his lover with stern features.

 

“Now, to get back to our earlier conversation. You do need to be punished for causing me grief and extra work,” he stated, his voice filled with promise.

 

Quatre ate off that voice, rolled under it and practically drowned. He could feel himself being wrapped inside of it, falling under the spell he’d started, that Trowa had only added to. He looked up at Trowa with half-lidded eyes, limbs pliant and loose, waiting for whatever his lover was going to say next.

 

“Roll over and present for me.”

 

It wasn’t a barked command, but Quatre forced himself into action. Trowa leaned back so he was out of Quatre’s way. Quatre rolled himself to his side, watching where he moved his legs so he didn’t hit Trowa in the face. Then he pushed himself to his stomach and forced his legs up, onto his knees, his hands coming up to keep his face out of the pillows. Reaching around, Trowa batted the mound of pillows away from the head of the bed, letting them fall to the floor.

 

“If I go too far, you know what to say,” Trowa whispered softly, leaning down to nip the shell of Quatre’s ear.

 

Quatre could only nod, his arms trembling with the effort of keeping himself upright and in the desired position. With Quatre’s cooperation assured, Trowa set to work. He settled himself on his knees between Quatre’s spread legs, watching his body sway slightly. It was a lovely sight, seeing those plush cheeks split apart by the pink thong. It also left said cheeks deliciously bare. Trowa needed to have a taste, and he bent down to bite Quatre’s left cheek hard. Quatre shrieked , his elbows giving out, only catching himself on his forearms before his face could hit the mattress. Trowa licked at the imprint of his teeth in mock apology, one hand coming up to squeeze Quatre’s right cheek.

 

“This is going to be so much fun…” Trowa teased.

 

Quatre liked to think that he was prepared for it, that he knew what to expect from his lover. But, Trowa always managed to surprise him. The usual form of ‘punishment’ when they were feeling playful was a round of spanking. Quatre loved it, but Trowa didn’t indulge it as often as the blonde would’ve liked. Trowa had a kinky streak as wide as the Grand Canyon, and liked to vary up what he did to tell Quatre when he’d been naughty. Usually Trowa had more time to prepare, but tonight, Quatre would get his favorite punishment. If you could call it that, since he liked it so much.

 

He expected the spanking. What Quatre didn’t expect was the flat of Trowa’s hand to come crashing down right in the middle of his ass, his palm smacking right against the plug. It forced the toy deeper, and Quatre let out a shout of lust, laced with a hint of desperation as it lodged against his prostate. Trowa kept his hand pressed there, keeping the toy deep, being utterly ruthless. The sting that blossomed out from Quatre’s skin had him panting, his body hot and almost on fire from that one swat, which told them both how much Quatre wanted and needed this.

 

“Again… Oh god, again Trowa!”

 

Trowa was only too happy to indulge Quatre. He was methodical as he pulled his hand back, striking at one cheek then the other, with the same level of force each time. It was a slow build of stinging heat on more stinging heat. Gentle pain slowly built up, pushing Quatre’s arousal to a new breaking point. He’d stopped trying to control his cries, and simply let each wordless sound fall from his lips, louder and higher in pitch with every slap of Trowa’s hand against his sensitive ass.

 

By the time Trowa deemed him thoroughly ‘punished’ Quatre was a wreck. His hair was tousled beyond recognition, with strands flying away in all directions. His entire body was quaking as he tried to stave off his orgasm, his forearms the only thing holding him up, though his face was dangerously close to smothering itself in the mattress. His make-up was ruined from crying tears of pleasure and pain, and he looked like he’d been through the wringer. He was sobbing Trowa’s name in unabashed delight, begging Trowa to finish him off.

 

Until he heard his name falling from Quatre’s lips like an unanswered prayer, Trowa hadn’t paid his own arousal any mind. He’d been hard since he’d left the office, but seeing Quatre all prettied up had robbed him of any sense of self. All he’d cared about was bringing Quatre pleasure, making him go delirious with desire, until Trowa was the only thing that mattered to the small blonde. As of that moment, he’d achieved that. But, now that Quatre had hit that point, Trowa had been made desperately aware of his own need. He ached, trapped inside his tight uniform pants, and he’d swear he was hard enough to cut glass. Quatre fumbled underneath himself and pushed the bottle of lube across the bed to him, which Trowa grabbed gratefully.

 

“Don’t rip these ones. I really like them,” Quatre whimpered, bowing his head as he tried to control himself by sucking in huge gulps of air.

 

Nodding in reply, though Quatre couldn’t see, Trowa used one hand to pop the fly of his pants, tugging and pushing at them and his boxers until his cock was free enough that he could fuck. He dripped lube directly onto his cock, hissing as the cooler gel met heated flesh. He was beyond impatient. He knew he wouldn’t last more than a few minutes, and that didn’t matter. The end game of orgasm was all that mattered to either of them in that moment. Using his clean hand, he grabbed that lacy strip of fabric from between Quatre’s cheeks and pulled it aside, holding it against Quatre’s bright red skin with that hand. Lubed fingers fumbled for the base of the plug, and he tugged.

 

Quatre’s body didn’t want to let go, bearing down on it by clenching, trying to keep it nestled deep inside of him, even if it wasn’t as satisfying as a hard cock. Trowa went slowly, keeping up on his pull until he’d worked it out, dropping it to the bed like it had mortally offended him. His body wailed at the loss of being filled, but it was mere seconds from the toy leaving him to feeling the blunt head of Trowa’s cock nudging at his hole. The toy wasn’t as big as Trowa, but they were both so impatient and beyond rationality that neither of them could concentrate. Trowa used his hand to guide his cock halfway inside Quatre’s pliant body before he let go and took hold of his hips, shoving himself deep with a single thrust. He bottomed out, and Quatre cried out, his throat raw as he felt it. Trowa’s hips and thighs pressed against the abused skin of his ass, and the zipper of his pants bit at him, causing bright sparks of pain against the pleasure of being filled by his lover.

 

It was quick, rough, and dirty. Quatre took each thrust with the little strength he had left in his body, one hand braced on the headboard of the bed to prevent his face from crashing into it. Trowa had let go of the thong in favor of grasping Quatre’s hips with tight fingers, pulling the blonde back to meet each thrust. He wasn’t even trying to aim for Quatre’s prostate. He was lucky if he hit it on every third or fourth thrust, but he was too busy chasing his own release. There were so many things… Trowa’s erratic thrust into his prostate. The extra biting pain of the flesh of his ass connecting with Trowa’s body, the strain on his arms from holding himself up and in place as was befitting his position of ‘punishment’. His nipples brushed against the bed, and he was undone. He came with a scream loud enough to rattle his own teeth in his head. The thong took most of his come, but more of it dribbled out from the holes in the lace onto the sheet below.

 

Trowa took another thrust or two and was undone himself. He shoved in deep, holding their bodies together as he came in hot spurts inside Quatre’s body, a guttural groan punctuating his release. They remained in their positions for a long moment, until Trowa carefully withdrew, watching with gleeful satisfaction as his come dribbled out of Quatre’s hole, onto the thong and down his thighs. The moment Quatre was free, he slumped to the side, too delirious with pleasure to even move. He ached all over, in only the best ways. He looked like a hot mess.

 

“You look like you just took on a train of men,” Trowa said with a wry chuckle.

 

“You’re a powerful train,” Quatre shot back instantly, letting out a giggle.

 

Trowa knelt there, mouth agape, almost in shock that his innocent looking lover had come up with something like that despite the state of inebriation he’d managed to reach with this sexual escapade. Shaking his head, Trowa slid off the bed, stripping out of his soiled uniform, bringing it with him into the bathroom. Quatre heard the water turn on, and smiled, knowing Trowa was drawing them a bath. It would feel so wonderful again. And, this time he’d go to bed clean. Maybe he’d convince Trowa to change the sheets while he languished in his second bath of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://moonsandrock.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [My Gundam Tumblr](http://weiclown.tumblr.com/)


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